The Meaning of Protection
by Arteme
Summary: [series of 4 short fics] What means the most to a group of four people who embrace nothing? The answer becomes clear in a barren desert with a bereserking Goku.
1. Golden

Golden

What is this? I don't understand what this is. Why am I feeling like this now?

On the ground against the pure, white desert sand lies a golden coronet. The brutal light of the sun reflects off of the gold, dyeing the sand a similar golden shade. Golden? Something else was golden too…

I remember then, floating in this empty space where I have neither form nor consciousness.

Golden. A ray of sun that reaches down from the heavens, freeing me. For so long I have been alone in that dark place for reasons that I can't seem to recall, even now. A place where everything that I touch dies. A place where memories of my past lie, intangible, at the outer reaches of my mind. A place where itis so dark that any light at all was welcome. My prison. That's why it was so strange when he came.

Golden. It was warm and golden like that sun I had not seen in so long. A golden warmth that chased away all of the dark things of both my past and my present. It was slightly familiar, that golden ray of sun was, but not enough for me to remember anything. It was merely enough to let me know it was safe.

A hand, tentative and barely steady, reached out to touch that golden ray of light. Reaching out and then…then the eternally binding chains fell off. I remember that moment even now. I was finally free.

I float once again in this black void, unaware of it all, until then…

Memories from an even greater time age come back to me now in fragments. So long ago. Even longer than that dank, dark cavern. Memories so faint and flitting that they barely touch my mind before they fade again into oblivion. Faces falling in and out of existence in my mind. Kind, gentle eyes, a cocky smirk, golden hair, and then, from out of the darkest oblivions of my mind comes a face, lonely and so full of longing, with hands, reaching, trying to reach out to me. Such longing startles me even now. In that second, impulsively, I wanted to reach out, to help. I knew what it was to long for something. I could understand such longing. So close. But before our hands could touch I am ripped away into the icy darkness once again.

I want to hold on. I want to stay and ease the loneliness so similar to mine, but I can't stay. The rage is coming, boiling my blood, singing seductively through my mind. Blind rage that can overthrow my already unstable consciousness. I want to hold on to these memories, but I am unable to.

I reach out one more time, trying to grasp the last remnants of a pleasant dream

A futile effort.

I fall into the abyss of blind rage, with only the single thought of that golden ray I want to protect so badly.

Sanzo…

* * *

Author's Note: This was written in Goku's voice. I will be writing four more short blurbs in the other character's voice. This will make no sense if you don't understand what happened 500 years ago in Tenkai. I am aware of the Sanzo/Goku pairing that is very popular out there. This is a "read as you will" fic, meaning that I did not purposely write it with the intension that it be shounen-ai, but take it was you will. I am sorry if the tenses are hard to understand, as it switches in the middle, but I tried my best. The past tense is in the italics 

Please read. Please review. Flame me if you will, just give me some feed back.


	2. Fragile

Fragile

It's very easy to break. People are fragile, and they break very easily. I was broken very easily, but now, I think I have been broken again.

I hate the feeling of impotence.

Golden eyes lost in a terrible rage. I can see the rage. Eyes full of rage, a familiar sight. I can remember everything about her. Eyes full of rage, and hatred,always directed straight at me. I'm still not quite over it all. I still haven't gotten over it yet. I still have the scars she gave me across my face. I can still remember her.

And his eyes serve as nothing but a reminder.

I could put up with a lot of pain back then. I can still put up with a lot of pain now. It's almost disgustingly easy to ignore. What I can't put up with is eyes full of such rage.

It makes me want to weep.

How can someone hate this much?

I've never been quite comfortable with seeing hate in the eyes of those I care about. I've never been quite comfortable with myself. I was born as something disgusting. Half youkai, half ningen. Something strange, something heretical, something that nobody in their right mind could love. My mother had shown me that quite well. I wanted to make her happy, I wanted to make her proud of me. It was an ineffectual attempt. In the end she hated me, and she even wouldhave killed me if he hadn't been there.

Jien.

My brother, my shelter, my only friend. He was the only one who didn't look at me with contempt. He was the only one that didn't look at me with those eyes full of hatred. He was my brother, and I was his, and he would treat me as such. It was the only thing I could cling to at the time. My only solace for my fragile mind.

Jien is't here right now though.

And Iam once again confronted with eyes full of rage.

A kick, and all of the air bursts out of my lungs. I amso fragile, in both body and mind.

What I would have given to forget the pain of my fragility.

Why aren't you here to help me right now, Jien? The day she died you died too, but I still need you, my brother, to help me, to accept me.

Because the one that I think of as a brother is trying to hurt me, as he just hurt you, or what's left of you. I wanted to protect you, but I couldn't, because I still need you to protect me.

Brother, I'm still fragile, I don't want to be alone.

Falling into darkness, I can only think now of the one I used to rely on to save me.

Brother…

* * *

Disclaimer: Okay, this is a fanfic, meaning, it's written by fans. Saiyuki isn't mine. I know I forget it in the past chapter, but ditto for that chapter too. Even if you sued me you'd get no money anyway. 

Author's Note: Here was my best shot at writing Gojyo. Gojyo is my least favorite character, so it was hard for me to write him. I hope I did a passable job. Oh, and in this little blurb, there is not implied shounen-ai. Gojyo's relationship with Goku is strictly platonic. Goku is Gojyo's little brother, like Gojyo is Jien's little brother, that's it.

I'd greatly appreciate a review, but I'm going to write this no matter what, reviews or not. Still, feedback is nice, and I don't get hardly any at all.


	3. Eternity

Eternity

From eternity on. It was almost a pledge. From eternity on. We both knew it on our hearts. From eternity on. We would always love one another.

Kanan.

I tried to do it. I tried to save you, to protect you, to shelter you. I sacrificed everything for you, even my humanity. I would have given up my life for you, and I did, in more ways than one.

I can recall the haphazard killing spree easily. I can recall those mangled, bloody corpses lying on the ground. Such blatant disregard for life of any kind. I did it all only for you. I did it all in vain. I remember standing there, covered in blood, as you brought my knife, already so stained with blood, to you pale and slender throat. There was nothing I could do as you, the other half of my life, my reason for life, killed yourself without a second thought. Looking back, I can't help but wonder why you didn't recoil in fear at the sight of me, but no, you smiled a smile so full of despair that my heart almost burst, and then you killed yourself, spattering blood all over the walls and onto myself. The bitter irony of it all still hurts.

I'm not really what I was anymore, am I?

Sacrifice has changed me in subtle ways. At first I wanted to die. At first, I still held a blatant disregard for life in general, and my life specifically. Egotistical of me, isn't it? I thought I deserved Hell, after killing so many so recklessly.

How could I not have seen how precious life was, especially after I had just lost yours.

I hate watching others suffer. I hate leading this life. I can't stand it when people die, or feel pain around me. Pain reminds me of you. That's how I remember you, Kanan. I remember you because of pain.

Something deep inside of myself won't allow me to heal. Something deep within keeps on holding me to your memory. Even when confronted with vestiges of a distant past, even when overcoming such vestiges, I can't help but long for you. I could never save you. I can replay the scene a thousand upon a thousand times in my head, and I still wouldn't be able to save you, but still, I thought there might be a chance to save him.

Even as he rips me apart, I long to save this innocent kid. Even as you ripped me apart I longed to save you as well.

Life's an eternally vicious circle, isn't it?

Kanan...

* * *

Author Note: Oh dear, I haven't updated in an eternity! (laughs at the irony) Anyway, for anyone who's wondering, this one was Hakkai. I really hope that was obvious. 

**Pervasive Threnody**: Well, I have continued. I hope you like this as well

**Keistje**: yep, you're exactly right. This is their thoughts during that time. The 5th DVD, I know, I'm not sure when in the manga.

**Kanzeon Bosatsu**: Hakkai is my favorite, and I like Sanzo well enough, anyway, long live Hakkai.

**guess who!i finally got ff to work on my cpu:** Okay, I've written more. Happy?


	4. Cynical

Cynical

I've always hated people in general and myself specifically, and I suppose I'll never be able to understand exactly why. Perhaps it's because I never placed any value on my life. Who would? I'm a horrible person, inside. They can talk about how beautiful, almost ethereal, my physical appearance is, but they can never scratch the surface of the true darkness deep in my heart.

I'm not a nice person. I think that's become apparent quite recently. I have a heavy hatred in my heart, It's a giant iron shackle clasped around my soul which prohibits others from entering and myself from escaping. It's a shackle called cynicism.

I can't recall when I began to loose faith in the world, but at some point in time I did. It was a gradual decline into this cursed atheism, a slight break in faith here, another there, until I was falling. I had thought that Koumyo Sanzo, the man who was almost a father to me, could have restored some degree of faith in me, but such a wish was infinitely naïve and foolish. It was that night, that night of change full of brutal slaughter that I realized something. You can't depend on anyone to save you but yourself.

Strength is the only thing that matters. Strength to live alone, strength to save yourself from peril, strength to resist useless emotions.

I had almost forgotten that, until now, lying in this gritty sand almost completely incapacitated while a raging battle full of unbridled emotion occurs around me. It reminds me of that rainy night so long ago when the full weight of my utter powerlessness hit me.

When you can't protect the ones you love, it's easier just to shut off the whole world.

…and shut off the whole world I did.

To hold nothing. If you meet the Buddha kill the Buddha. If you meet your father, kill your father. Free of everything, not bound by anything, live your life just as it is.

Why is it that this motto is so hard to follow anymore? I try to push them away, I try to push them all away, and yet they only have to look at me with those stubborn eyes and I'm once again drawn into a world full of laughter and light.

It's quite disgusting. I'd rather remain in this gray monotony I have the audacity to call my life. Here it's safe, here no one can be taken away. If there's nothing to loose, you can't be hurt, but still, there's this feeling…

…inexplicable…

…unerringly frustrating…

When I think about these comrades of mine, these burdens of mine, being injured, raindrops start falling in my head. I hate the rain. It symbolizes all of those good, caring things that I left behind.

Yeah, I lie here, immobile, in the midst of a waterless land but I can still hear the falling rain.

Dear Koumyo Sanzo, if you could see me now, what would you think?

I'm getting sick of myself. I think it's time to give up. I want to drop this wall of cynicism.

Dear Koumyo Sanzo, I think I'm getting better.

* * *

**Author's notes** Sanzo's voice. It's great, after almost an entire year I'm finally done, and I realize just how craptastic my writing is. Ah well, I believe I shall work on some of my other works in progress after I post this. Told ya, I'm not dead. 


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